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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698360">Dancing With Danger (or, well, the Mafia)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/myheroesrbands/pseuds/myheroesrbands'>myheroesrbands</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Mob, M/M, Mob Boss James Rhodes, Original Character(s), Past James "Bucky" Barnes/ James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Rhodey-centric, Sam Wilson (mentioned) - Freeform, Stark Enterprises - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:27:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/myheroesrbands/pseuds/myheroesrbands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey! You! What the hell are you doing?” He came up behind Jim as he was holding onto a man’s shirt and preparing to hit him again. </p><p>“Handling my business,” he responded. Because that's what he did. He handled his business.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello!! This piece of work was written for RhodeyTony Celebration Day 2020! I absolutely did NOT expect this to get this long and I will have the second chapter up soon. This is dedicated to Remy and Nat, specifically, but also to all the rhodeytonies that helped birth this whose love for mafia/mob au's pushed me to puff out this baby. I am very glad it's Rhodey-centric and I want you all to know that I am a sucker for Mob Boss Rhodey.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Organized crime in Philadelphia had spanned decades. The Italians were the first to settle and the first to leave. Too caught up in their New York desires, they left behind a system begging to be used. The Russians used it next. They left the system messy, bloody, and out of order as hell. If there was one way to describe the Philadelphia branch of the Russian mob, it was disgusting. Or at least that’s what James Rhodes would say it about. No one ever asked how or when it happened but soon after, the Rhodes family had become the leading name in organized crime. </p><p>James Rhodes. The youngest person to head a major organized crime unit in the history of the city of Philadelphia. If asked, he’d never tell you his true age — always two years up or two years down — but he was 29 years old when his father, Terrence Rhodes was killed during a “negotiation” gone wrong. People always wondered how James had handled the death of his father and the only response he’d give was “Where do you think his killer is?”</p><p>The Rhodes family was different from both the Italians and the Russians in several ways. Obviously, they were black-run but the important part was that they were <em> trained </em> businessmen. The Italians and the Russians taught their underlings how to do business on the fly. They didn’t learn it from the people <em> running </em>the businesses and the Rhodes — well they had businessmen teach them what to do, and then they took their jobs. It was what made their connections across the east coast so efficient and tight-nit. </p><p>That was another thing that set them apart — they weren’t separated across the United States with different versions of the same unit coming into conflict with each other. The Rhodes ran a well-oiled machine — Jim was the chief executive. Nothing happened without his approval. Jeanette was his right-hand woman. If there ever needed to be an assassination or gruesome murder, Jeanette Rhodes was there. Under her, there was Frankie who was the main runner of the Philadelphia base of operations. He made sure everything Philadelphia-related went straight to the top. On his same level was William who coordinated all other east-coast dealings with the underlings and also reported to Jim directly.  </p><p>With their connections in the police, the damn federal government, <em> and </em> the criminal justice system, the Rhodes were practically untouchable. They sat at the top and what they did best was protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. They provided hotlines, wired phones, police reports, etc. to help the neighborhoods that needed it the most. When they weren’t dealing in the protection business, James had his unit engaging in firearm trade. It was the easiest way to teach the young-ones the <em> on-the-surface </em>workings of what he and his unit did. </p><p>It was during one of these “field” trips that he saw <em> him </em>for the first time. </p><p>A scrawny white boy with black hair, too big frames, and a too-big jacket on him. Jim could only stare as the white boy walked down the street and made a right turn on the corner. “Mike you got this?” he asked the man explaining to the three teenagers, two girls and a boy, in front of him. Mike nodded and Jim took a swig of his cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stepping on it. </p><p>He walked fairly quickly down the sidewalk to get to the end of the block and turned to make the right turn before he was bombarded. By a buff, body-guard seeming guy. “Woah there fella!” He raised his hands defensively to show he was not going to make a move, but he stood with the daily confidence of someone who knew that they held power, and they would hang on to it for dear life. </p><p>“He told me you were watching him walk down the street. Tell me you think that’s creepy, so we can go about our days.” Jim winked at the response before reaching in his pocket to grab another cigarette. </p><p>Going for his lighter, James chuckled to himself. It was funny — the joke only he knew. </p><p>Taking a swig, he looked back up at the guy standing in front of him. “You see. I know everybody that runs around in these streets. Even the white folk. Now I ain’t never seen you around here before and I’m not sure I like the tone you’ve taken with me Mr. I’m-A-Bodyguard.”</p><p>The man ‘s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-” he was cut off. </p><p>“Oh but you do,” James replied in a tone that implied he knew entirely too much but nothing at all at the same time. “You know exactly who I am. I couldn’t tell you how. Well, I probably could but see. I don’t <em> know you </em> to say where you may know <em> me </em> from.” He kicked at a few rocks on the ground before blowing out the smoke from the side of his mouth. “Now, as you so <em> kindly </em>pointed out, I was watching that young man walk down the street. He caught my eye. I wanted to catch up with him. Is there a problem with that or will we need to handle this another way?” Jim’s left eyebrow rose and his left arm wrapped around his mid-waist to show he really was getting tired of this conversation. </p><p>“I don’t know you, man. I’m just his bodyguard I swear.”</p><p> </p><p>That’s when the first punch came. </p><p> </p><p>Now it’s important to recognize, no one ever said James Rhodes was merciful. He was quite the opposite actually. </p><p>It’s what made his reputation much <em> worse </em>than his sister’s. </p><p>“Why are you beating up random men in the middle of the street J?” She asked when she saw him later that afternoon. </p><p>He was finishing his dinner from behind his desk for the first time in a while. Usually, he and Jeanette had dinner together, but she had been feeling a bit off lately. If her piece of shit (not really) boyfriend did anything to her, James was already ready to kick his ass. </p><p>“Dumb responses. The usual.” She sighed loudly as she paced the floor. She was unsettled and James began to pay more attention. </p><p>“No James. This isn’t “<em>the usual”. </em> You know damn well what the hell you’re doing and you’re doing it because you <em> can. </em>Not because you need to. It’s getting concerning. Some of the others are wondering if this is their chance to take over.”</p><p>James cackled at that. He full-on belly-laughed at the mere <em> idea </em> that these people thought they could take over <em> his </em>operation. </p><p>He then turned deadly serious. “If any of them want this seat, they have to go through me. They know that. If they want it so bad, tell them to come get it.” He paused to let his words marinate. “I don’t give a <em> shit </em> about them Jeanette. I can run an operation with four people and <em> still </em>be more successful than any of those shitheads. If they want this desk,” he punched his bruised fists into the hardwood and continued, “tell them to come fucking get it.” </p><p>Jeanette had stopped pacing and was staring at him. It wasn’t uncommon for them to have staring matches — Jeanette usually won — but she was <em> searching </em>this time. Searching to make sure that the passion he had for this job was still there. Searching to make sure her brother wasn’t losing himself to the adrenaline of doing the heavy-hitting. She sighed when she found what she was looking for and her eyes drifted to her shoes. </p><p>“I know that Jim. I know that. But <em> they </em>don’t seem to know that. And I’m afraid they’ll step out of line over it.”</p><p>Jim smirked a menacing and down-right conniving thing that came from deep within him. </p><p> </p><p>Jeanette knew those fuckers were in for it. </p><p> </p><p>A week later, James found himself in an abandoned warehouse (how cliché?) by the ocean. It had the best scenery and James liked to have a good view when he took care of his business. He wasn’t a generally nervous person so it was his anger that had him feeling to make sure his Glock 7 was still at his side. If it came down to it, he’d use it. Until then, it’d stay there. </p><p>Elijah, John, and Christopher, all men in charge of making sure deliveries were made from the docks on time, were filing into the fifth floor of the warehouse. James knew they weren’t stupid — they knew something was about to happen. </p><p>What? Well, they’d have to wait and see. </p><p>The knife in James’s hand gave him an unsettling edge. As he watched the three men — <em> traitors </em>really — sit in front of him, he wondered how he let this threat go undetected for too long. </p><p>He really needed to listen to Jeanie with more efficiency. Waiting around was not the way to go. </p><p>“Gentlemen,” he began. He locked eyes with each of them and reveled in how it made them squirm. “I’m not usually one to believe rumors,” he stood. </p><p>“In fact, I avoid them at all costs.” He began to walk behind the three seats. Elijah was clearly trying to stop his body from quivering in fear but it wasn’t working. Jim pressed his knife to Elijah’s left ear. “But I’ve been hearing,” he drew his hand back sharply and watched the blood ooze out of Elijah’s ear. He continued, “some very unsettling things.” He stepped behind Christopher. </p><p>Funny. He had thought the 25-year-old was insanely attractive and had even had some very <em> imaginative </em>dreams about him. </p><p>Too bad he was very likely to be the one person to not leave this room. </p><p>Jim pressed his knife, red at the blade with Elijah’s blood, at the back of Christopher’s neck. He added just a bit of pressure and watched with extreme pleasure as Christopher’s body reacted — his back going straight, hands falling to his sides and legs spreading just enough for him to move the knife from his neck to his thigh. “There’s nothing I hate more than rumors men. Especially,” again, he drew the knife back. </p><p>The muffled scream that left Christopher’s mouth made him smile without humor. </p><p>“Especially,” he repeated, “when my own men are conspiring against me.” </p><p>John, the oldest of the three and the one who had known Jim the longest, met Jim’s eyes when he walked around. Jim placed his hands on John’s knees and held his eyes. He smiled mercilessly and stood back to check the man over. </p><p><em> There, </em>he thought and in a second, his right fist was punching through John’s left elbow — cracking the bone. </p><p>The groans of the three men filled his ears and Jim was tempted to pull out his Glock and put bullets between all three of their faces, but that wouldn’t be as satisfying as watching them suffer. Slowly. </p><p>“You three are loyal. You’ve <em> been </em> loyal to the operation we have going here and now I hear you think I’m <em> acting irrationally </em>and that this would be your time to “take over”,” he quoted. Watching them was like heaven. He watched them shake their heads through their pain, although not as bad for Christopher and Elijah. </p><p>He needed to fix that immediately. </p><p>When Elijah noticed Jim coming toward him, his head moved up to align with Jim’s movements. Within a second, James had his left hand wrapped around the other man’s neck. His grip was tight, albeit not as tight as it would be to actually kill someone, and Elijah squirmed. </p><p>After about 45 seconds, Jim let go and observed Elijah falling to the floor and gulping air back into his lungs as if it were water. He laughed manically. </p><p>“If you three think for a <em> second </em> that there is <em> anything </em> that would put me <em> out </em> of the chief spot and one of you <em> in </em>it, you have lost your damn mind.” James began to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt — which he needed to stop doing, wearing dress shirts to these sessions — and Christopher and John shut their eyes tight to avoid facing the fact that this was it for them. </p><p> </p><p>Only one man walked out of the warehouse that day. </p><p> </p><p>And that was how his operations went. Someone stepped out of line? They were put in their place. Someone <em> crossed </em>the line? They were taken out of the equation. </p><p>Jim would have stuck to that plan three weeks later if it weren’t for that random <em> body-guard </em>guy he ran into over a month ago, stopping him from finishing a job in an alleyway. </p><p>“Hey! You! What the hell are you doing?” He came up behind Jim as he was holding onto a man’s shirt and preparing to hit him again. </p><p>“Handling my business,” he responded. “You got a problem with that?” He asked and went for another punch before his hand was <em> pulled back.  </em></p><p>James dropped the guy in front of him, pulled his Glock out, and pointed it at the guy in less than five seconds. “I’m <em> handling my business. </em>You’re going to give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you or I’m going to shoot him.” He waved his gun to the guy groaning on the ground and the body-guard guy spluttered his words. </p><p>“Come on now. I’m sure you don’t want your newfound <em> traitor </em> of a friend to get shot. Now tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you,” Jim asked with more emphasis this time and pressed his gun closer to the man’s head. James <em> never </em>killed bystanders but this one was getting on his last fucking nerve. He was ready to shut him up if it meant he never had to see him again in his life. </p><p>“Because of me,” another voice came from behind the man and the both of them turned to face the source. </p><p>“And who the fuck are you,” Jim asked. He <em>asked</em> as if he didn’t know who the man was though. </p><p><em> Tony Stark. “ </em> Tony Stark.” <em> Billionaire inheritor of Stark Enterprises, the largest multinational corporation out of New York. “ </em> CEO of Stark Enterprises.” <em> And the fucking guy he was staring at all those weeks ago. “ </em>And the guy you were looking for a few weeks ago.”</p><p>“Listen, I know you don’t care about him, but he’s my bodyguard and arguably the closest friendship I have. I’d really rather you didn’t kill him.” There weren’t many times that James could say he was genuinely stunned by a human or something they did but this was definitely one of them. </p><p>“And do you know who I am?” He asked as he looked down and made to kick at the man on the ground. </p><p>“You’re James Rhodes,” he said and Jim’s head shot up to make eye contact with the man. </p><p>“You’re the head of the Rhodes Family.” Tony was stepping too close and James only had <em> one </em>gun, and he couldn’t decide who to shoot first, so he was setting the gun on Tony right now. </p><p><em> Tony. </em>What the hell he’d only known the man for all of five seconds, and he was already on an internal first-name basis with him? </p><p>Where the fuck was <em> Jeanette </em>when he needed her. </p><p>“I’m here to-”</p><p>“Jim!” he heard from the other side of the alley and, in an effort to avert their attention, shot a bullet at one of the side buildings. The two men were deafened at the loud noise and couldn’t pay attention to Jim fleeing in a getaway car. </p><p>“Drive!” He yelled and pulled his phone out. </p><p>Dialing a number, he spoke quickly and hurriedly into the phone, “I fucked up.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If there was one thing James hated more than traitors, it was calling in reinforcements. </p><p> </p><p>“What the hell happened Rhodes?” Jim watched James Barnes — his friend turned boyfriend turned ex-boyfriend — pace the floor from his desk where he was leaning back in his chair. </p><p>Barnes had known Jim since they were around 10 years old. Bucky, as he preferred to be called now, had lived a couple of houses down from Jim’s parents and whenever he was outside with Jeanette, he had seen a dark-haired white boy a few houses down playing with some scrawny blonde kid. A few years later, when the two of them were just starting high school, they were drawn to each other. Bucky, at the time, was dealing with the death of his best friend (the scrawny blonde kid, Steve) and just needed some comfort, so he found Jim and that was that. They were friends throughout high school, dated in college, broke up, and barely spoke unless Jim needed an emergency handling of a situation because Bucky promised he’d always be there for him.</p><p>Which was exactly what was happening. </p><p>“I told you,” he started. This was exhausting and if Bucky didn’t make up his mind, Jim was going to say to hell with the whole situation and put the entire Philadelphia operation on hold. Speaking of which, Frank, the head of the Philadelphia operation, was sitting on the couch to the right of Jim’s desk. He was paying close attention to the two men. He always paid close attention to whatever happened in Jim’s office — he wanted to be in Jim’s spot one day and that came from watching what was happening and being <em> in </em>those moments first-hand. </p><p>“Tony fucking Stark knows about the operation and his fucking bodyguard stopped me from handling my business with Tommy. This is <em> only </em> an emergency because I might like the guy.” James didn’t care that he barely knew Tony. What mattered was that if this entire situation kept going on untethered, he would lose control and <em> nobody </em>wanted to know what James Rhodes was like when he lost control. </p><p>“So you want me to do what exactly?” Bucky asked. He was tired of this too. This <em> game </em> that James seemed to play every time he was attracted to someone. When they dated, he thought it was cute but that was different — they had known each other for over five years. James had evolved to do it to people he didn’t know. Prior to this situation, it wasn’t bad. A crush here or there and a death or two along the way. But if this was serious, which Bucky <em> seriously, </em> hoped it wasn’t, then there was going to be more than just <em> one or two </em>deaths. Jim would kill everything standing between him and Tony Stark. Everything. </p><p>The game, Bucky came to realize, was that if James Rhodes happened to like you (or love you for that matter), no one you knew was safe. The <em> only </em> reason Bucky found out about the game when he did (which was fairly early into their relationship) was that <em> Jeanette </em> told him. It was a local legend that for three generations, every Rhodes don had killed whoever stood between them and their partner and Jim was being trained to not be any different. Bucky fessed up, luckily getting no one killed but <em> other people </em>that Jim dated didn’t know the truth and that was the reason Bucky was standing in front of James right now. </p><p>Not to help James, but to save the people that Tony Stark loved. </p><p>“I want you to get ahold of that bodyguard of his. We need to have,” he paused. “A few words.” Bucky shook his head. </p><p>“You don’t even know if you like the guy yet,” Bucky protested and Jim’s sharp gaze fell upon him. “I’m fucking serious,” he damn near growled out. He was <em> sick </em>of this shit. “You’re doing this because of some guy you haven’t even had a proper conversation with Jim. This isn’t healthy.” Bucky hoped that stressing the point by moving to stand right in front of Jim’s desk, the forbidden area of the office for any visitor, would help his case but within a second, Jim had a gun in his face. </p><p>This damn desk and all the fucking <em> guns </em>that Jim kept in it. </p><p>“Now Bucky. Just because we used to fuck,”<em> low blow</em>, Bucky thought. “Does <em> not </em>mean I won’t hesitate to do this. I’m asking you to do this thing for me. I don’t give a damn what you or Jeanette think.” He clicked the safety off — a clear and present threat. “You’re going to do as I asked, or I’m going to put this bullet through your face. You choose.” Jim was being dead serious and Bucky conceded. </p><p>“Fine. But you try to kill him and I’m taking his place.”</p><p>The threat came out entirely <em> too </em>sweetly for Bucky to take it lightly. “I’m counting on it, sweetheart.” </p><p> </p><p>What the <em> fuck </em>was Bucky getting himself into this time. </p><p> </p><p>“Frank! My man,” Jim started as the door closed behind Bucky. “What can I do for you today?” </p><p>Frank stood. He was a tall man, 6 foot 3 to be exact. He commanded a room simply with his presence. While Jim never felt intimidated by the other man, there was always a deep part of him that was proud to have someone like Frank that was loyal to him and his family’s cause. “It’s the east side. There’s been a disturbance over there caused by some stray IT’s. They’re hijacking our shipments and selling what they have for scraps. People are running to them and I’m afraid they’re going to start to sink their claws in our territory.”</p><p>James <em> loved </em>challenges and the Italians that liked to sneak their way into Philly always presented a favorable one. </p><p>“They keep coming here to try to take Philly from us, and we keep showing them why they shouldn’t. I think it’s time we do something about this.” James was already coming up with a million ways to show them who ran the streets — arson, death, torture; he had options on how he wanted to declare his presence. </p><p>“I need you to get the east side folks in for a meeting. Tomorrow. 10 am sharp. We’re going to handle this with delicacy.”</p><p>The next day, Jim awoke at 5 am to prepare for his day. After sleeping on it for a night, he decided the best way to make an example of the Italians was to double his tactic. Normally he hated when units used more than one strategy to take out rivals — it was counterproductive. If used properly, <em> one </em> course of action would be the most effective, and for the Rhodes, that worked for every group <em> except </em>the Italians. It was unacceptable and James was tired of their bullshit, so he was going to set his final example of them. </p><p>“I got him,” were the only words he heard from the call with Bucky an hour later. Bucky didn’t have to say anything else and Jim was on his way to his favorite warehouse in a place just outside of the inner city. </p><p>“Again, you try to kill him and you’re going to have to kill me, Rhodes. I’m serious,” Bucky said and Jim waved him off in favor of looking at the chair where the body-guard was tied up fairly efficiently. </p><p>“Aw, you laid him out nice and sweet for me. How nice of you.” Jim threw the cigarette he was smoking on the ground and stepped on it. “What a pair we make huh?” He locked eyes with Bucky and watched the man’s discomfort become apparent — Bucky <em> hated </em>doing anything for the mafia, but he made a promise, and he never broke those. </p><p>“Hurry up,” he responded simply, choosing to not look Jim in the eye and instead focus on his feet that were walking away from him. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out of his pocket to see <em> SAM </em> as the caller ID. <em> Fuck </em>, his boyfriend really had bad timing. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s up babe,” was all Jim heard before he began to focus his attention on the barely conscious man sitting in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“Well well well. We meet again,” he started. The man’s face wasn’t bruised <em> too </em>bad which meant Bucky knew he’d be getting a bit handsy, and he needed all the space he could get. </p><p>The man spit on the ground at Jim’s feet. “Ah, he’s a <em> feisty </em>one.”</p><p>Jim was growing impatient but that wouldn’t stop him from dragging this out as long as possible — or at least long enough for him to be back in time for his 10 am appointment. “What’s your name?” he asked the man who coughed in response. </p><p>“Happy,” he responded and Jim laughed.</p><p>“Happy? Happy? Really? Whew, that’s a laugh,” he said and threw his first punch. This one hitting the man in his right eye. “Well Happy. I have a thing about people <em> touching </em>me when I’m handling business. And I have a thing for people that disrupt me when I’m trying to make a move. It’s discourteous,” he spit out and threw his second punch.</p><p>James reached for the knife, his go-to weapon, in his right pocket. Dragging the blade down the man’s cheek to his neck, Jim smirked. He was drawing enough blood to leave a scar but not enough to get his hands dirty. Jim then covered the blade in that same blood. “See my extraction guy over there, knows I have a <em> problem </em> with things when I’m <em> dissatisfied. </em>He doesn’t want me to kill you,” he yelled and laughed sarcastically. </p><p>“Since I do actually respect his wishes, I’m going to ask you one question. Your answer to this question will determine whether I kill you or let you walk out of here. Do you understand?” </p><p>With two swollen eyes, Jim couldn’t see the exact expression the man was making but the bobbing of his head gave him all the answer he needed. </p><p>“Who do you work for?” The knife was now trailing dangerously close to the man’s ear and James was imagining slicing through his ear as he had done with Elijah’s all those weeks ago. The stammered voice began to speak before James could finish his daydream, and he then pressed the knife harder against the skin. </p><p>“Speak up!” Came his booming voice and the man flinched away violently. </p><p>“The St-Starks. The Italians out of New York. They’re trying to-” the man was cut off by the violent punch to his face that immediately knocked him out. James was <em> seething </em>and if he didn’t put his hands around someone’s throat immediately, he was going to fucking scream. He dropped the knife and clenched his fists several times. </p><p>“Fuck!” He yelled and turned to walk out the doorway where Bucky was standing. </p><p> </p><p>“You drop him off where you found him. Tell him to tell the Starks that if they want war they’re going to fucking get it.”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky was confused but for once, didn’t question what Jim was telling him. He’d never, not in all 25 years of knowing him, seen James Rhodes this angry. His entire body was tense, his hands were moving violently, and his eyebrows were in a permanent furrow on his head. Whatever the hell this meant, it wasn’t good for <em> anybody. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I want to know how in the hell we let the Starks get into Philadelphia,” was the first thing he said to address the eleven men sitting at the round table. His voice was calm — too calm — and Frank, who was sitting in the front, immediately noticed. The other ten men in the room didn’t have a first-hand track-record with James Rhodes, so they wouldn’t understand the problem but Frank picked up on it. </p><p>“HOW,” his voice boomed around the room. “In the <em> hell </em> did the Starks get their fucking <em> claws </em>into our operation.” Bucky entered the room and James raised his index finger in indignation. “You. Get the hell out.”</p><p>Bucky, alarmed by the request, slowly left the room. </p><p>The meeting went on for another hour during which Jim finally decided that this attack against the Starks would happen in three parts — arson, death, and negotiation. </p><p>The men filed out of the room and Bucky heard what sounded like hands hit the table. “Bucky,” came the stern order. </p><p>“I need you and Jeanette to go all-in with me on this,” he asked and Bucky immediately shook his head. </p><p>“Hell no. I have a life to get back to.” Jim groaned and lifted his hands from the table. Clearly bruised from his earlier punching match, his hands rested on the head chair at the table. </p><p>“You did what I asked?” Jim’s head was in his chest and Bucky had never seen this side of him. It was uncharted territory. The thing was, James was never openly emotional. That was just the way it was for him. His father had <em> drilled </em>that mentality into his head and here he was six years after his death about to throw all of that out the window because of the fucking Starks. If Bucky weren’t hell-bent on staying out of mafia-related business, he would have been right at Jim’s side for this.</p><p>“Done,” he responded dutifully. No matter what, he knew how to follow orders — even if he had a reputation of disobeying them.</p><p>“Okay go. I’ll call you and tell you how this goes.” The stress in his voice wasn’t noticeable but Bucky knew. He walked up to Jim and placed a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“If you need me to be half-in, I’m there. But I can’t be all-in.” He locked eyes with James when he lifted his head and offered a weak smile for comfort. He wasn’t the best at this comforting stuff, but he was learning. </p><p>“Okay,” James breathed. “Okay. Half-in is enough.” </p><p> </p><p>Three weeks later, James Rhodes was sitting in a negotiation room with his sister standing at his side and Obadiah Stane sitting in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“I see you’ve been making an example of me and my men while we’ve been in town. Burning our — or should I say <em> your — </em>supplies, killing dozens of my men and leaving their bodies where I can find them. And now you’re here. Sitting down to discuss the terms of this with me. Do you know how unorthodox this is?” James didn’t like this man’s voice. He reminded him of every white man that had ever patronized him in his entire life. </p><p>“If I cared about orthodoxy you wouldn’t be alive right now,” he said simply. His hands were folded on the table sitting between the two of them. His watch, a gold Rolex, and his rose tattoo were glistening in the light coming through the room’s windows. Jeanette, now sitting in the seat to his right, had her hands folded in her lap where she was certainly hiding a knife (or a Glock. Jim didn't know). </p><p>James knew he wasn’t supposed to be strapped in negotiations like this but ever since his father’s death, he <em> never </em>showed up to a fistfight without a gun. It was a new code that he was swearing to live by for as long as he lived. </p><p>The man in front of him laughed. It was neither a humorous nor a sarcastic laugh. It was just a barrel of sound erupting from his throat. James shifted uncomfortably. He would be fine in here sure. Jeanette vs. Stane’s two guys was barely even any competition and Bucky was right outside the door with an AK should any more of Stane’s people decide to show up unannounced. But any white man with power that believed he had more than he did always put Jim on edge.</p><p>“While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t think you would have the capacity to take me down in any situation,” James smirked. Obadiah Stane had no clue who he was fucking with. The fires and the deaths? Those were barely touching the <em> surface </em>of the full power of the Rhodes family. </p><p>“Mr. Stane. I’m here to ask you to leave Philadelphia. I don’t understand what you Starks want here <em> anyway. </em>We got nothing for you. New York has everything you need.” Stane smiled toothlessly. </p><p>“Oh, this isn’t about why I want. This is fully about what <em> Tony </em>wants. And he wants you.” </p><p>The only display of shock was Jim’s lifted eyebrows. He tapped his Rolex against the table. Once. Twice. Three times and a knock came at the door. The two men, idiots really, both turned to open the door. They took a second to look outside and were taken down in an instant. Bucky then walked inside, locking the door behind him. </p><p>“See I would be more surprised if I hadn’t met Tony Stark two weeks ago.” James stood from his seat and unbottoned his front jacket. “Tony Stark is actually a sweet guy. Cute too. Nice ass. Also told me you’ve got a hit out on him because of his claim to the Don position which, tsk tsk tsk,” he was circling the table. Jeanette only had eyes for Stane and  Bucky was locked on his target, Stane’s head. </p><p>“Putting a hit out on <em> Tony? </em>If I hadn’t gotten to know him over the last few weeks I wouldn’t care. But you bring your business down to Philly? That’s personal. You start messing with my shipments? That’s personal. I don’t think you understand Mr. Stane,” he was standing behind Stane now. His knife, his precious knife, pressing to the back of Obadiah’s head. </p><p>“I don’t think you understand how important family is to me. She,” he pointed his knife to Jeanette, “is my sister. The closest person in my life. He,” he pointed his knife to Bucky, “is my ex-boyfriend turned closest friend. I do things for them that I would never do for <em> anybody </em> else. And right now, your Tony Stark is weaving his way into my heart. So when I do this,” his knife began to press into the base of Stane’s neck, “know it’s because you fucked with the wrong family.” Jim wasn’t one to use guns but when Bucky fired three shots into Obadiah Stane’s body, he smiled. </p><p>“It’s done. Now tell me why the hell I couldn’t have just done this at any other time?” Jim asked Tony when he was seated next to the man in the comfort of his Cadillac. He had discarded his now bloodied suit for a comfortable jeans and sweatshirt and Tony was now lying in his arms.</p><p>“Because, honey bear, I want to know that when you did it, it wasn’t out of <em> pure </em>passion. I know how much you like doing what you do. I can see that clearly. I wanted to make sure that man suffered.” James smiled and kissed Tony’s lips. It was soft, not like his usual persona when he was handling business. But this was different. He was invested in Tony and if it meant Tony would be happy, he would quit the operation faster than a Google search. </p><p><br/>But Tony knew what this business was to Jim. He knew what it did to him — the <em> rush </em>he got from killing people. He would never deny Jim his first love.</p>
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